


Crushed

by makoredeyes



Category: Titanfall
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-08 01:56:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10375296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makoredeyes/pseuds/makoredeyes
Summary: Jack has a REALLY shitty day.  BT does everything he can, but he was NOT built for this, and Command is NOT helping.BT and Jack discover some partnerships can't be replaced.Hurt/comfort fluffy angst (you heard me)PG13 for profanity.





	1. Landslide

BT-7274 had quickly learned that his new Pilot was a pretty quiet guy. Cooper was a man of few words when he was comfortable, and even fewer when he wasn’t. BT didn’t mind, but it did make assessing the Pilot’s status slightly more difficult. Typically, Cooper would not make a single sound if he sustained injury, for example. All BT had to work with was a shift in biometrics: a blood pressure change, perhaps quickened or labored breathing. Never a cry of pain, exclamation, or call for help. He expressed fear much the same way, and also, on rare occasion, pleasure.

When BT and Jack had become separated in battle, BT kept particularly vigilant of the man’s vitals, and queried him often. To his credit, Jack never seemed to mind BT asking. For this reason in particular, BT’s concern for his Pilot skyrocketed when, moments after an enormous explosion and a telling gasp from Jack, BT did not receive an answer to his call.     

“Pilot. Pilot, do you copy? Cooper. _Cooper!_ ”

Rarely did BT feel the necessity to move quickly, but when the need arose, he could top 40kph with ease. He tore through a canyon, tracking Cooper’s Emergency Location Transmitter beacon, which in itself was worrisome since it took a massive jarring to trigger in the first place, towards a location suspiciously similar to where the explosion had been.

Jack was alive, that much he could tell, but his pulse was elevated, and more concerning, his blood pressure was low.  BT continued his attempts to hail his friend.

“Cooper. Do you copy? State your status.”

On his eighth try, there was a burst of static and a garbled groan.

“Cooper!” BT didn’t often bother modulating his voice to express urgency, or anything else for that matter, but this time the exclamation came out without deliberate command.  If BT hadn’t been fully preoccupied by his Pilot’s well-being, he might have taken pause to analyze the irregularity.  As it was, he had just come upon a massive landslide, dust still settling.  Somewhere beneath refrigerator-sized boulders was Jack’s beacon.  BT scanned the area, on the off-chance that perhaps the ELT had been dislodged. No. Jack was in there.

“Enemy Titan! Get ‘em!”

BT turned, catching a shotgun round dangerously close to his optical array.  He flinched away from a follow-up shot, reticle narrowing dangerously.

He did _not_ have time to play games with IMC grunts. Not even bothering with standard armaments, which would have been plenty, BT locked a missile onto every man in the platoon, and after a brief thunderous roar, everything fell silent.  A quick scan showed that no other enemies were even remotely close to his location. Good.  The faintest sound drew his attention away from the carnage.

“BT…” 

There! Movement. A gloved hand, and flash of blue light from the helmet.  BT took pause to assess the landslide, cognizant that the wrong rock moved at the wrong time could bury himself and Jack completely.  In seconds, he was digging furiously, chucking boulders in every direction so long as it was away from his Pilot.

Cooper’s biometrics were wavering in a terrible sort of way, and as he cleared the last of the rocks, he had a clearer understanding of why.

                Jack did not move, but to turn his head toward BT, and the Titan was already scanning the man, assessing the damages.  Somehow, miraculously, his vitals were all intact. He crouched down, laying a single fingertip gently on Jack’s shoulder. The Pilot groaned, wiggled a little, and with great effort, shoved the helmet off of his head. It rolled just out of range of the geyser of vomit that followed it.

                “BT, I can’t… my legs…” Cooper moaned, eyes rolling.  His skin was several shades paler than usual, and taking on a concerning gray-blue hue.

                “Crushed. Please. Do not move.” BT was already drawing up triage data, knowing that there was nobody else close enough to help.  Frustration fogged into his processor. He was not equipped with the dexterity to handle an injured human, let alone provide medical care. Jack began to shiver, vomiting a second time, and BT forced away the frustration.  He was the only help Jack had, and therefore, he would succeed. He glanced around, actively assessing the entire situation. “It is not safe here,” BT observed. “I am sorry, Jack, but I have to move you. You are not going to like it.”  There was no way he could protect the injury and lift Cooper at the same time. Jack was about to experience what was probably the most agonizing moment of his life.

                Jack nodded, eyes hazy and unfocused from pain, but fixed on BT nonetheless.

                “I know.” He coughed, cringing. He levered himself onto his elbows, reaching one hand up to BT. “I trust you.”

                BT knew Jack trusted him.  He hoped this wouldn’t shake that trust. BT gingerly curled his fingers under Jack’s back, taking maximum care not to jostle the injured man. Jack trembled fiercely, his armor rattling against BT’s palm with the force of it. BT gripped his shoulders with his other hand, intending to carefully pull the Pilot into his hand, using it as a makeshift stretcher, but as soon as he tugged even the slightest bit, Jack recoiled. BT paused, thinking. There had to be a better way to do this, but Jack was already trying to drag himself even without assistance, and so BT resumed his plan.  It was only a few short feet to get all of Cooper’s torso into his palm, but it was enough to be devastatingly painful. Jack let out an inhuman wail, and it was all BT could do to not drop him on the spot, Protocol 3 spitting out errors wholesale. He could not protect Jack without causing him pain, which was not protecting him.  Leaving him alone would also be a failure of Protocol 3.  There was no satisfying the motivator and so BT resolutely overrode it, stamping it out with a ferocity he didn’t usually possess. He didn’t need base programming failsafe’s to want to protect Jack.

                Jack, who was curled in his palm sobbing and shivering and inches from losing consciousness.  BT gazed down at the broken Pilot, distressed that he could do no better to soothe the man’s pain.

                “Hold on, Jack.” BT said, softening his voice as much as possible. “I need your help a little longer.” Jack nodded, lifting his head to make eye-contact. BT popped open his canopy, lifting Jack up close. “There is an emergency first aid kit under the seat.  I don’t have the manual dexterity to retrieve it, or open it.” BT had considered simply reaching in and ripping it and whatever else he grabbed out of himself, and crushing the box open, but worried he might damage the materials he needed in the process. Jack nodded again, mutely reaching over his head with both hands, and fishing the box out. Resting it on his chest, he thumbed it open. “Far left, top,” BT instructed. Jack withdrew a syringe, and grimaced at it. He bit off the cap, ruthlessly jamming the epidural into his thigh.  BT watched a little of the color return to Jack’s face as his battered body numbed somewhat. Jack was already digging blindly through the box, fishing out two titanium fold-away braces, dropping them beside himself into BT’s palm. Finally, he found the bandage wrap.  BT used his thumb to help lever Jack into a sitting position, and once Jack had unfolded the braces, was able to carefully slide them under the Pilot’s legs.  “If you get the wrap started I am confident I can continue from there.” BT said. He was anxious to clear the area, and Jack was moving so terribly slow. Jack fumbled but was able to wrap a single rotation of the bandage around his left leg, then held the roll up to BT, who pinched it delicately between thumb and forefinger. BT bound the splint, and then the other, and finally for good measure, both legs together, up to the knees.  More than once, he heard Jack fail at swallowing cries of pain, and he decided he would prefer to never have to hear such a sound again.

                By the time he was done, Jack’s head was lolling on his shoulders, the man barely clinging to consciousness. His blood pressure was too low, and he had stopped shivering. “Let go, Jack.” BT all but whispered.  “You would be better for it.” Jack’s head rolled to one side, the Pilot gazing fuzzily up at him.  “I will keep you safe.” BT promised. Jack nodded, and gave in, slipping out of consciousness almost immediately.

                BT stared down at the unconscious man, now limp in his hand. The sight was particularly disturbing to him.  Carefully, oh so carefully, he lifted Jack by the torso, taking care to support his bundled legs, and placed him into the cockpit. Jack groaned once, twitching even while unconscious, but was otherwise still. BT crouched, retrieving the abandoned helmet, and stowed it at Jack’s side.  The canopy closed with a snap, and BT turned, trotting away from the area as quickly as he dared.

 

 

                Jack awoke inside the cockpit to the sound of his own blood throbbing in his ears. His vision swam, and his palms were cold and clammy. Actually, that was the least of it. He fought the urge to vomit again. If the epidural was working, he couldn’t tell.  The continuous vibration of BT’s stride certainly didn’t help, but he figured being safe within his Titan was far better than dying crushed under a mountain of rubble. In truth, the notion that he could have died had only just sunk in.  Jack had never doubted BT would rescue him.  He tilted sideways in his seat, letting his head lean against one of the padded sidewalls.  BT’s stride slowed slightly, and Jack could hear the whirr-hiss of the Titan’s processor pick up in intensity briefly.

                “BT…” He groaned the name, but lifted a shaking hand to place his palm against the inside of the cockpit canopy affectionately. “Looks like you’ve saved my ass again.”

                “It’s good to see you’ve returned to consciousness, Pilot.” BT rumbled. “And yes, it would appear your backside is still intact, although I don’t believe I took any action that specifically ensured its preservation.” Despite himself, Jack laughed.  BT could be rather slow with idioms, but Jack had a hunch he was doing it on purpose this time.  His notable lack of objection to Jack’s laughter confirmed it.

                “Yeah, well at least part of me came out unscathed.” Jack grimaced. Laughing hurt.

                “You are still in shock and your core temperature is excessively low.  There is a thermal tarp in a pocket to your right,” BT said, back to business.  Jack obeyed the implied command, fishing out the blanket and throwing it over himself as best he could.  It was stiff and crinkly, but in moments he felt warmth start to sink into his body. His shivering subsided slightly.

                “You worried about me, Buddy?” He teased lightly.  His ears were ringing from the pain, but he was determined to stay conscious. He clung to BT’s presence, searching for any reason to keep the Titan talking.  BT didn’t respond to him immediately, and Jack worried that he wouldn’t get a response at all.

                “Yes.” BT said at last, and though his words were succinct, his tone was somber.  Jack didn’t know if BT was capable of experiencing real fear, but if he wasn’t, whatever reaction the Titan did have had clearly been damn close.

                “I’m sorry, Buddy.  I should have been more careful.  Tha-aah!”  BT stepped into unstable ground and slipped slightly, taking a hard step to regain balance, and Jack cringed from the jolt, gasping. “Thanks for saving me,” He finished with a groan.

                “Protocol 3: Protect the Pilot.” BT recited.  “You have made my job particularly challenging today.” He paused, letting his words settle.  Jack grimaced, feeling chagrined.  “However,” BT went on, “regardless of protocol, I will do everything in my power to be there when you need me.” Maybe he was reading too much into it, but BT’s words made Jack’s heart ache in a sweet sort of way.  Before BT, Jack had nothing. His family was gone, his home trampled by the IMC.  BT had sacrificed himself repeatedly for Jack, fought tirelessly beside Jack, defending him from everything without prejudice, and in the process had become his most treasured companion. He was undeniably a bright star in Jack’s darkest days.

                He didn’t expect the deep emotional bond to be returned, wasn’t certain it was even possible with synthetic intelligence, but to hear words that sounded so _close_ to his own feelings made joy swell up into Jack’s chest.  He hiccupped.

                “I know you will, Buddy. You saying it, though…It means a lot to me.”

                “I am glad.  Our mutual admiration and respect make a partnership I would rather not go without.”

Jack let himself drift, confident that BT would get them home to safety, eventually slipping into that sick place between unconsciousness and slumber. 

 

 

When he fully regained consciousness, he was laid out on a gurney in a Militia medical facility.  Jack groaned, head lulling heavily when he tried, unsuccessful, to sit up.

“Easy, Pilot.”  A hand levered his shoulder back into the mattress, a young man in a nurses’ uniform gazing at him with concerned, but friendly eyes. “You’ve had a really shitty day.”

“Tell me about it,” Jack croaked.  He pulled his knees up off the bed experimentally, testing his movement. Pain seared through both legs, clean up to his hips, and he couldn’t hold in the agonized squeak that erupted from his lungs.

“The bad news,” the nurse said, brutally chipper, “is yep, they’re both broken. The good news? Your Titan did a good enough job with the field dressing that you’re gonna heal up just fine.  You’re damn lucky you’ve got a smart one.” Jack gazed down at his legs, thick and bulky from casts up past his knees.

“How long am I stuck like this?” Jack groaned, accepting help to sit up.  

“Twelve weeks.”

Jack let out another long groan, but then, he remembered the most important question of all.

“Where’s BT?”

The nurse laughed lightly as he checked Jack over.

“Oh, probably pestering the ward manager, as usual. It’s been calling in every four hours, to the minute, to check on you.” He turned away briefly, returning with a handheld radio.  “It’s pretty special, that kind of devotion from a Titan. Not unheard of, but damn rare.”

“We’ve been through a lot together,” Jack said, as explanation.  The nurse pressed the radio into Jack’s hands.

“Oh I’m quite aware of that, Pilot Cooper. Everyone is.  Now do us all a favor and give it a call before it drives the boss completely batty, will ya?”  Jack nodded stiffly. It annoyed him with people refused to speak respectfully of Titans. The refusal of a pronoun, referring to BT as an object instead of a person, rankled. BT may have been built as a war machine, but he had evolved well past that a very long time ago. Jack waited until the other man had left, and he was alone, before cuing up the radio.

“BT. You there, buddy?”

                “Cooper!” Jack smiled. BT sounded truly delighted to hear from him. “State your status,” BT demanded. Jack’s grin grew.  Even with everything that was so wrong in the world, BT’s persistent concern for Jack made it all a little more right.

                “I’m fine, Buddy.” Jack said.  He was tired, in far more pain than he cared to think on, and his ankle itched.

                “Objection. You are not ‘fine.’” BT said.  “You have sustained multiple fractures, one significant break, and a multitude of lesions.  Your medical charts indicate you are in significant pain as well.”   Was it all in Jack’s head, or did BT sound angry?

                “Okay, I’m not _fine._ But I’m not buried under a mountain of rocks, dead or dying, either. All things considered, I’m doing real well, and it’s thanks to you.” BT grew quiet at Jack’s rebuttal. The Titan had gotten Jack to safety, summoned a rescue, and delivered him to medical all on his own, while Jack was incapacitated. “Please don’t worry too much, BT,” Jack added, hoping to pacify the Titan. “You did good. I’m gonna heal up just fine and we’ll be back in action in seemingly no-time.” BT held his silence a little longer, before finally conceding.

                “Good.”


	2. Lonesome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Briggs makes a pretty dumb decision. Jack has some more shitty days. BT is 100% done with this asshole's bullshit.

 

                “No.”

                Sarah Briggs stared up at the Titan, stunned.  Never in her life had she had a Titan, even the uniquely willful Vanguard Class, so bluntly turn down an order.  She honestly wasn’t sure what to do.

                “‘No’ is not an option, here, BT.”   She couldn’t believe she was having this argument.  What the hell had gone wrong with this AI’s processor that he could even conceive of rejecting an order?  What the hell had Cooper taught it?

                BT straightened up to his full height, towering over her intimidatingly. His optic was shuttered into a glare, and his fingers twitched, and Briggs had the irrational fear that he might lash out at her.  She drew her shoulders back, and squared her shoulders, and had to remind herself _she_ was in charge, not the Titan, no matter how ticked off he looked.

                “I object. I absolutely refuse.”

                Sarah sighed, rubbing her face. The son of a bitch had always been particularly stubborn, she mused.  She remembered BT giving Captain Lastimosa a hard time as well.  She reckoned she should have his processor wiped, that this uncanny rebelliousness was dangerous, but she couldn’t bring herself to really consider it. BT was unique, and it was probably that individuality that had saved all of their lives when the entire planet of Harmony had been threatened.

                “Don’t be like that, BT.  You’re one of our most valuable assets, we can’t have you _and_ Cooper grounded for three months!”   In hindsight, she should probably have opened with that argument.

                “I will not break the link with Cooper, even temporarily.  He will recover. I will wait.” BT shifted, turning away from the Commander slightly. She scowled. Obstinate. “Furthermore, I am concerned by the potential negative effect such a break would have psychologically on him. I will not risk further harm to my Pilot.”  Sarah truly wished that she could spare BT long enough for Jack to recover fully. She respected the Titan’s concerns.  She needed him anyway.

                “Sorry BT, but you don’t get a vote in this. It’s happening.” She turned and left, not allowing the Titan another rebuke.

 

                The radio by Jack’s bed crackled to life just as he saw Commander Briggs stride into the medical ward across the room.

                ” _Cooper,_ ” BT sounded upset. “The Commander-“

                “Just walked in.” Jack said. She had turned, made eye contact, and was walking purposefully his direction. Ominously, BT fell silent.

                “Cooper.” She nodded as she drew closer. “Healing well?”  He saluted slowly, suspicious.

                “Good afternoon, Commander.” Her face was taut, her shoulders tense. “Healing as quick as I can.” Jack finished. He paused a moment, weighing how direct he should be, before plunging on. “What’s got BT so upset?”  An ugly scowl crawled its way across her face, and she huffed a little. The pleasant smile Jack had affected fizzled into a frown of his own.

                “We’re going to break your Neural Link so that BT can continue to serve while you recover.” There. She said it.

                She watched the color drain from Jack’s face, a look of honest horror dawning across his features.

                “No…”

                Briggs withheld a groan. Cooper looked absolutely crushed, devastated in the way he had been when they had rescued him from Typhon.  He had thought he had lost BT forever, then, and it looked like he thought the same now.

                “Just temporarily, until you recover,” She said, trying to reassure him. “We need BT on the field, you’ve got to understand that.” Jack clamped his eyes shut against her words, face screwing up into an agonized expression. He nodded.

                “I understand.”  He said no more, turning away from her as best he could. His shoulders shook, and Briggs had an awful notion the man was crying. She didn’t wait to check, hurrying out of the ward.

                Jack waited until she was gone, holding his breath, before letting loose a wail into his pillow.

 

 

BT stared down at the unfamiliar human standing beside Commander Briggs. The man was smiling smugly back up at him.  He wore Pilot’s gear, a helmet tucked under one arm.  Although recessive genes had been mostly bred out of humans centuries ago, rare blue eyes glittered oddly.  Chiseled features suggested he would overall be considered attractive, but BT didn’t care about that at all.   BT didn’t care about anything to do with this man, in fact. He was not Jack.

His Neural Link with Jack Cooper had been severed the day before, and BT had endured the sound of Jack’s muffled sobs, alone in the medical ward, through the scratchy two-way radio for the greater majority of the night.  Clearly Jack had not realized that BT could hear him, having toughened up the moment he thought the Titan was listening.  BT was dissatisfied with having to link to another pilot, but it was Jack’s pain that most of all sat unwell with him.  It felt like a punishment.

BT kept his optical shutter almost completely shut, exercising his best facsimile of a glare.  He knew he had a reputation for being friendly; more empathetic than most Titans.  He did not much desire to be friendly at this time.

Briggs could tell.   She had seen BT’s steely glare before, even been on the receiving end of it, but the Vanguard Titan was being particularly standoffish.

                “BT-7274, this is Captain Richard Sapp.  He will be your acting pilot until we can finish construction of a new Titan for him.”  BT stepped back half a step, drawing back.

“Unable. Linked to Pilot Jack Cooper.”

“That link was neutralized. You will link to Captain Sapp,”   Briggs was feeling tested, and it was clearly evident in her voice. Sapp’s arrogant grin was fading.

“Unable.” BT repeated.

The Commander hissed, openly angry.

“Damnit, BT! Would you just cooperate? I don’t want to have to force you!”

“Negative.” BT was resolute in his decision. Briggs let fly a low snarl, and stomped her way right up to the Titan, and slapped a magnetic pad against one enormous, metallic thigh. The device beeped, a tiny indicator light going from red, to green. BT stiffened, staggering back half a step before freezing. He shuddered once, and the cockpit hatch sprung open. BT attempted to protest, but the sound came out garbled.

“I’m sorry BT,” Briggs said with a weary sigh. “But we need you to be reliable.”  BT shuddered once more, and then he sagged considerably.

“Understood.” She was certain his tone had not changed, but somehow, the Titan sounded remarkably forlorn.  Beside her, Sapp stood unmoving.

“Well, get in!” She snapped, and his overly chiseled face swung her direction.

“Are we sure it’s going to be safe?” He asked, incredulous. He had never seen an argumentative AI before.

“Protocol One: Link to Pilot.” BT droned. “Please embark when ready.”

“What did you do to him?” The Captain asked, incredulous.

“That was a safety override,” Briggs explained, reaching out and peeling the little device back off of BT. “He’s not the first Vanguard to become overly defensive of a Pilot.  I don’t like to bully anyone that way, BT,” She added, looking back up at the Titan in question. “Please, just play nicely.”

“I am still in objection.” BT stated flatly. “But I will comply.”

“Can’t you leave it on? Just in case,” Sapp mused aloud. Behind the Commander, BT crouched down, presenting himself to his new pilot.

“It doesn’t work like that,” she said. “Now get going.”

 

Sarah had gone to visit Jack, hoping to reassure him by regaling just how much trouble BT had been. The Titan was nothing if not proudly demonstrative of his devotion to the man. Much to her disappointment, she had gotten very little more than a soft chuckle and an ‘atta boy,’ the injured Pilot clearly uninterested in talking.  His hands shook, fingers balled into white-knuckled fists, and his jaw was set, gaze fixed determinedly into the void.   She aborted her attempt early, leaving him alone, but on the way out pulled aside a technician.  She was worried that the severed link had not done him well, and requested a little extra surveillance.

The only time any of her people had severed a link with a Titan, it had been due to the loss of the Titan.  No-one had lived long enough to retire, and nobody had relinquished a link willingly. Jack was, again, the first- an anomaly to the norm.

Briggs had been abruptly severed from a Titan before. It did not feel nice.  Jack’s sallow eyes and shaking hands were not a result of his injury; that much she knew. To him, it was as if BT had died all over again.

 

News traveled fast, and it hadn’t taken long for word to spread that BT had taken on a new pilot in Cooper’s absence. That it was a bad match. That there was no better way to put it than that BT-7274 was in a downright foul mood about it. The joke, then, was on the poor bloke shacked up with the Titan. Command should have known better.  That guy was an asshole, anyway.

On their second battle, a hot mic had divulged that two infantrymen hoped BT would perhaps accidentally step upon his current pilot. The chorus of laughter that burst from an entire platoon suggested that the accidental transmission might not have been as unintentional as it seemed.

Briggs endured endless complaining from Sapp, of insubordination and disrespect from his cohorts. When she approached BT about the issues at hand, the Titan had had the nerve to affect a shrug.

“I will obey the Captain’s commands, but I am under no obligation to coddle him.  We have only five more weeks to endure.”

She couldn’t disagree.

 

                Jack was quieter than ever. He was out of the over-the-knee casts, and could now at least bend his legs, allowing him some mobility, but he was despondent and bitter, and generally disinclined to take advantage of the minor improvement. He had half the base worried. Briggs was worried.

                BT was nearly overcome with worry.

                “Jack, please come to the hangar soon.”

                Jack stared over at the radio, BT’s voice sounding hollow and unsubstantial.  He didn’t want to see BT. Or rather, he didn’t want BT to see him.  Pale, atrophied, and an emotional wreck, he didn’t really actually want anyone to see him.

“Cooper, please.” BT pressed. “What do you need?”  The Titan wasn’t usually this persistent. “Tell me how you are, Cooper.” Jack reached over, stared down at the handheld.  BT didn’t deserve the cold shoulder.

“BT.” His voice cracked, and just saying the Titan’s name made his throat close.

“Jack!”   
                Jack clamped his eyes closed. 

“BT, I-“

“Just get here.” BT interrupted him.  Jack glanced over at the wheelchair beside his bed. He knew he could do it. He sighed heavily.  He owed it to BT.

 

Jack rolled into the hangar, mostly empty as the day’s shift was ending. The few people he passed all saluted, greeting him cheerfully. He had been deeply missed. As he drew near to BT, the Titan knelt, crouching down as close as he could get to Jack.

“It is good to see you, Pilot.”  BT said.  Jack laughed, a hoarse, bitter sound.

“I’m not your pilot, BT,” he spat the words.  BT straightened up, indignant.

“That Captain Sapp certainly isn’t, if that’s what you mean,” BT rumbled.

“I heard you’ve been trouble.” Jack said. “Please be careful, BT.  I need you here for me when I’m back on duty.”

“I understand.” BT rose back to his full height. “Please maintain faith, Jack. This is temporary.”

Jack snarled a little.

“It _hurts_! It hurts like crazy, BT.” He paused. “Not this…” He gestured towards his legs. “It feels…it feels like when you were gone.  I… I don’t know who I am because there’s a big empty chunk of me missing.  It’s driving me crazy!” His voice was rising, hitching. 

BT crouched back down, and lifted Jack out of his wheelchair to cradle him in his hands. With the mood Jack was in, BT had anticipated a protest, but none came. Jack was limp and trembling, tilted over the edge of a total meltdown.

                “Soon, Jack.  We don’t have much longer,” BT tried to soothe the man, casting about for the right words to say. He was not built for this.

                “Too long…” Jack murmured. “Not worth it.”

                “Nobody intended you pain.” BT pressed and Jack huffed a sigh.

                “I know, BT. I know.” He was sullen.  Defiant, and, judging by his vocal patterns and posture, remarkably desperate.  How, he wasn’t sure, but BT was concerned that they were losing Jack. 

                It was with great difficulty, knowing that Jack would likely be tremendously upset if he knew, that BT decided to send a video burst to the Commander.  As far as BT was aware, she had been hard-pressed to get any sort of feedback out of the former Rifleman at all, and his state at the moment was distressing enough that she needed to be informed.  _This is not going well,_ was all the annotation he left.  The Pilot in his hands was weeping silently, but overall, his mood was leveling out somewhat.  BT, still anxious, watched the man carefully in silence, patiently waiting out the storm.  He received a silent acknowledgement from Briggs, and kept the feed open.

                “HEY!”  The shout echoed through the hangar. Several heads turned their way. BT swiveled his great optic around to fixate on Captain Sapp, sanding below. “What the _hell_ are you doing?!” His face was red, teeth bared. His stance was wide, ready for a fight.  Jack twisted where he sat in BT’s palm, waves of anger and fear washing over and over across his expression. “Put that Gimp Trash down, you piece of shit!” Sapp berated BT, voice rough with fury.  BT recoiled half a step back, blinking in shock down at the man. The Captain, in like kind to BT, never spoke remarkably kindly to the Titan, but never had BT experienced such abusive words. Around them, a crowd began to gather at a safe distance.  Jack was scrubbing at his face, trying to hide his tears. This was exactly what he didn’t want. “That little turd isn’t your pilot, I am!” Sapp continued, screaming. “I am!  You hear me!? Put that little fucker down!”

                “Put me down, BT.” Jack said, voice low and quivering.

                BT reached out, delicately gripping one handle to Jack’s wheelchair and pulling it close to him, positioning it between his ankles, and bent low to gently place Jack into the seat.  BT straightened up, turning to face Sapp when the other Pilot took three long steps, boldly trespassing into BT’s space, and slugged Jack across the face, hard enough that the wheelchair rolled back several feet. Jack cut off his cry of pain and surprise, but a protocol in BT snapped, his functions shifting abruptly from ‘passive’ to ‘ _intimidate’._ He was already moving.  He reached over to an armament rack, snatching the 40mm Tracker Cannon there, and swung it around, leveling it inches from Sapp’s face all before Jack had come to rest somewhere behind him.

                “You are correct, _Captain_. You _are_ my acting pilot.” BT growled the words, lunging down to bring his burning glare to eye-level with the human.  In his hand, the truck-sized weapon whined to life as he primed it, each barrel wider than the man’s head. “But Cooper is my _friend_ and if you lay a hand on him again I will demolish you.” The crowd that had gathered collectively retreated in silence.

                Sapp stood frozen, terrified.  Behind him, BT could distantly hear Jack calling his name, voice shrill with alarm.

                “I expect a satisfactory answer, Captain,” BT added frostily, when the man in question didn’t respond.

                “STOP!” Commander Brigg’s voice boomed out like a clap of thunder.  “BT, back off.” BT straightened quickly, silently shouldering his weapon. He shifted his weight, positioning himself squarely between Cooper and Sapp, defensive. “You’ve got some explaining to do.” She added as she approached the trio.

                “Damn straight you do!” Sapp barked, jabbing a trembling finger accusingly up at BT.

                “I meant _you_ , Sapp!” She snarled the words, turning on the man.

                “This monster threatened me!”  BT, confident that Briggs had the man handled, turned away, crouching down to examine Jack. His friend was in shock, wide eyes glittering and his hands gripping the armrests of his wheelchair hard enough for his fingernails to tear the material there.  A large portion of his face was rapidly turning purple where Sapp had struck him.  Behind him, Brigg’s voice was sharp with anger.

                “ _You_ assaulted a fellow Militia Pilot, unprovoked, while he was unable to defend himself, and you verbally accosted a senior ranking Titan!” Sapp’s jaw hinged open.  The Commander huffed. “While I don’t condone BT’s method to protect Cooper, it is you, Richard, that is at fault here.”  She tipped her chin up, signaling over Sapp’s shoulder.  Another man approached, gripping his elbow in a manner that suggested just how much trouble Sapp was in. “You’ll be relieved to know you’re only being charged with assault, and not treason, _Lieutenant_.”  Sapp accepted his arrest in bitter silence, and Briggs turned back to BT and Jack.

                “Well you certainly know how to make a statement.” She commented wryly. BT hunched up a bit, contrite.

                “I did not intend so much drama.” He said, not once moving his gaze from Jack, who had his head down. “Are you alright, Jack?”  Jack looked up. He had a brand new black eye, the bruising spreading to nearly a quarter of his face. Briggs grimaced.

                “I think we’ve established that I’m not,” Jack said, and his tone, at least, was more tired than bitter.

                “I’m so sorry, Cooper,” Briggs approached him, pausing to glance up at BT for permission before she got too close.  The Titan’s protective routines were still on overdrive, and she knew better than to challenge them. BT nodded, and she crouched in front of Jack, one hand on his knee. “I didn’t think this would be so hard on you.” He gave a derisive snort. “And I knew Sapp was a prick, but I didn’t ever imagine he would stoop this low.”

                “BT didn’t deserve that,” Jack murmured. “I get you need him on the field, but you could have given him someone… _worthy_ , at least.” His hands were balling into fists. He was too weary to express it, but he was furious. “I’d have splattered him myself if BT hadn’t beaten me to it, for talking like that.”

                BT raised a hand, carefully placing the gap between his thumb and forefinger over Jack’s shoulders

                “Not every Titan Team is as like-minded as we are, Cooper,” BT said, pleased to be defended, even if it wasn’t necessary.

                “Now what?” Jack asked, and the forlorn hunch of his shoulders made Briggs ache a little.  “I’ve got at least five more weeks in the casts.”  Briggs had been wondering the same thing. She stood, going quiet as she thought.

                “BT, what’s the TBO on your core?”

                “152.8 hours active service remain before overhaul is due.”  She nodded, processing the information.  A few more battles, and BT would be down for maintenance anyway. She turned, shouting to a team of mechanics still working nearby.

                “Lu!” A woman turned at Brigg’s call.

                “Yes, Commander?”

                “How long does it take to do a Core Overhaul?”

                “About six weeks, Sir,” the Chief Mechanic answered. She smiled over Brigg’s shoulder to BT. She had kept her head down the whole time, but had not missed what had transpired.

                Brigg’s eyes brightened, and she clapped her hands together in satisfaction.

                “Well! That’s convenient!” She turned looking up at BT. “I’m sorry, BT. But it looks like you’re off duty for a few weeks while we get you overhauled.  I’d rather get that done early while it’s relatively quiet than have you time out later when we really need you.”

                “I suppose I will endure.” BT said, turning a delighted sort of glance down at Jack.  Jack was stunned, blinking over at Briggs, speechless.  “Commander, Cooper needs that eye attended to.” BT moved on, pleased that he would not have to link to another substitute pilot, but significantly more concerned for Jack. Sarah grimaced sympathetically.

                “Yeah. C’mon Coop.” She reached out, taking one of the wheelchair handles as BT nudged it towards her. “Let’s get some ice on that, and talk about when we can get your Link restored.”

                “I will see you soon, Pilot.” BT called after them.  Jack was still stunned, but slowly, a relieved smile crawled across his face. It hurt, and it was lopsided, but it was real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. The end. 
> 
> I don't often do OC's for anything, and I definitely don't name them after people, but Sapp is, un-ironically named in combination after two pompous assholes I used to work with. One is a little bitch and the other an arrogant prick. I thought it was fitting. I can't say I should really even call him an OC, I simply needed a punching bag.

**Author's Note:**

> It told you he was having a shitty day. 
> 
> Canonically written BT is a fun challenge. He cares about Jack, even shows a certain empathy for him, but he's not emotionally driven. I like working with his point of view. <3


End file.
